by Todd Young
He wandered back to the truck, stumbling through the foliage. It was incredibly dark, and for a moment he thought he’d lost his way. Then he saw the light on in the truck, the interior light, and Ben’s profile. He felt bad now for pushing him away. That hadn’t really been called for.
“So,” Ben said, as he climbed back into the truck, “are we sleeping in the cab, or in the back?”
“The back?”
“I’ve got a few old blankets back there. We could put a couple down and put one over us. We might actually get some sleep.”
James considered this for a moment and then nodded.
Ben sighed. He laid his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. “Come on, then,” he said. He turned the interior light off, and they climbed out of the truck.
[] [] []
In the morning, James was lying with his back to Ben, and there was a hand between his legs. Ben’s calloused hand was electric against his tender thighs. He startled into wakefulness and sat up. Ben stirred, said, “What time is it?” But James couldn’t answer him. Had he done that deliberately, had a hand between his thighs? From the look on his face, it didn’t appear to be the case, and he decided to let it go. He had a boner, and one of his balls had got caught in the seam of his shorts. It was hurting, but the other seemed fine now.
He looked at his watch and then had to find the light. “It’s four thirty-eight,” he said.
Ben groaned. “We’ll have to wait an hour or so. I’m not going to go and wake that farmer up now.”
James nodded and laid down on his back. He put his hands behind his head and stared at what was left of the stars. It was lightening in the east, but there was one star — Venus or Mars — a planet — that could be seen even as the sun rose. He looked out for it, trying to pick it out.
“You like the stars?”
“Yeah. We don’t have stars in New York. Or didn’t.”
“No?”
“Too much light in the city.”
“Oh — right.”
“Do you know which one’s the planet?”
“The planet?”
“Venus or Mars or whatever it is.”
“It’s the one that’s not twinkling. Planets don’t twinkle.”
“Oh, okay. Can you see it?”
Ben pointed at the sky and James followed his line of sight.
“I’m going to watch it,” he said, right until the sun comes up.
“You won’t be able to see it then.”
“No, but almost.” He paused for a moment. “Do you know what it is? — I mean Mars or Venus?”
“I think it might be either, or even both at times.”
“Right.” He shuffled his body a little and pulled his shorts a little looser.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“I had a hard time falling asleep, but I sure was sleeping this morning.” He paused for a moment. “I wish you hadn’t woken me.”
“You had your …” hand between my thighs, he wanted to say.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Did I wake you?”
“Yeah. No. Not really. It was just strange, finding myself in the truck — and with you beside me.”
Ben sighed and rolled away from him. “I’m going to try and get a little more shut eye,” he said.
James nodded to himself.
[] [] []
The farmer had no trouble pulling the truck out, and by seven thirty they were home again. Ben dropped him at the gate and waved goodbye. James opened the door with his key and noticed a smell, the smell of something burning, or of something that had burned. He walked into the living room and found that the fireplace had been lit. It wasn’t alight now, but it had been lit, because some of the wood was gone and the place was warmer.
“That was me,” a voice suddenly said, and James turned to see the ghost. He was an old man, maybe ninety, and was barely visible. “I do things like that from time to time. It is my house, you see.”
James nodded, but felt a chill. Then the man disappeared.
“You can stay,” he then heard. “I’ve decided you can stay.”
[] [] []
James wandered through the house feeling suddenly lighter about everything. The ghost approved of him, and that seemed to make all the difference. But where exactly was he and what did he do? That was a mystery.
In the kitchen, James found another book by Patricia Highsmith. This one was called This Sweet Sickness. He was so tired after yesterday’s climb and the inadequate sleep last night that all he wanted to do was lie in bed and read. The story proved very different, and as he read it, he was reminded of Tina. The main character was mad about this girl he couldn’t have, and even went so far as to construct an entire life in which he lived with her. He talked to her and ate meals with her and asked her all sorts of questions. It reminded him of the way he talked to Tina at times, and he told himself not to do it again.
At around twelve, he got up and made himself a sandwich. Ordinarily, if he’d been reading, he would have been up every fifteen minutes smoking a cigarette. It occurred to him again that he really had beaten them, and he patted himself on the back.
“That’s something, bud,” he said. “That’s something.”
He continued with the book and finished it around five p.m. Then, after a meal of frozen vegetables, heated in the microwave, he went to bed. As he was drifting off to sleep, it occurred to him that his balls were fine now. That had been such a kick, he thought, the way he’d come when he smashed that obsidian into his nuts that final time. Even so, he couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t.
[] [] []
He dreamed of Ben. They were underwater and were breathing it. At first he thought it was the ocean, but then he realized they were in the stream. The sunlight was filtering through the water and Ben’s hair was floating around his head. He was sucking breath through his mouth and breathing it out again. James was too afraid to try at first, but then he did take a breath, and the water tasted sweet.
He woke, and rolled onto his back. He put his hands behind his head and let the dream play through his mind again. He wondered what it meant. Dreams were always supposed to mean something, or Tina had said that.
“What do you …?” he began, meaning to ask her a question about the dream, but he stopped himself. “There I go again,” he said.
He drifted back to sleep eventually, but in the morning remembered the dream again.
Ben came by at around ten thirty, just as James was finishing weight training. He came through the back door again, opening it this time, because it had been closed. James got a shock, and stared at him for several seconds.
“The door was closed,” he said.
“Yeah, but, well, you had it unlocked.”
James had to nod. There was something magnetic about Ben. Even so, he didn’t really want him walking into the house like that. “I …” he said, but didn’t know how to phrase what he wanted to say. The back door didn’t lock. That was the problem. If it locked, James would have had it locked. Maybe he ought to say something to Ed about it. What if Ben came in when he was jacking off, or walking around in his underwear?
He shook his head.
“You doing all right?”
“Yeah.”
“You seem pissed off.”
“It’s just … I don’t — don’t worry about it.” What, after all, was he supposed to say? He almost felt as though this was Ben’s house as much as his. He knew he’d grown up here, long before Ed had built his present house, an horrific brick construction.
“How’d you pull up after the walk?”
“I spent the day in bed.”
“Lucky you. I had to work.”
James nodded and then smiled, grinning at Ben.
“Oh, you think it’s funny, do you?” Ben reached forward and razzed his hair.
James drew his head sharply away and looked at him with something like suspi
cion.
“You know, you don’t have to flinch every time someone touches you.”
“Yeah, but you’re a guy.”
“I’m your friend. Friends touch each other.” Ben was saying it as though it was a very important lesson, and one he needed to learn.
James grinned, and then reached forward and razzed Ben’s hair. “There. You don’t like that very much, do you?”
“My hair’s a mess.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“I cut it with a knife.”
“You can tell.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
They stood in silence for a moment, and then James said, “I could cut it for you.” When he was younger, he’d made some extra money doing haircuts at school.
“I like the way you’ve got yours.”
“I don’t think that would suit you. I only have mine like this because there’s no other option. It slides all over my head.”
“It’s like a bowl.”
“Don’t say that. It’s not a bowl cut.”
“Right.”
“It’s not.”
“That’s how my dad used to cut mine. With a bowl.”
“You ought to show me a picture,” James said, “of when you were younger.”
“Maybe if you come down to my place.”
“Down to your place?”
“Yeah. I came to ask you if you wanted to.”
James considered this for a moment. “I don’t even know where your place is.”
“No, it’s a mile or so away. Another old farmhouse. My dad bought the land years ago, when I was a child.”
“Oh — right.”
“So, you want to come?”
“Now?”
“No. Not now. Later this afternoon. I’ve got a horse to shoe.”
“Right. I was going to go for a swim.”
“Well, I really do have to look after this horse.”
“Right.” James wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. Surely if he went down to the stream, Ben would be there. Or was there really a horse to shoe?
“I’ll come by about four,” Ben said. “We can go down to my place and I’ll cook you dinner.”
“And I’ll cut your hair.”
“Really?”
“I’ve said so.”
“Okay, then.” He nodded and then left without a further word, shutting the back door on his way out.
James walked toward it and tried the knob. The next time he went into Lincoln, he could buy a bolt for it. That would be easy enough.
[] [] []
James studiously avoided looking at the tree as he approached the stream. He was sure Ben would be there. And today he’d worn a thong. He wasn’t sure if he was going to swim in it, but that was the plan. Maybe he could take it off halfway through. That way Ben would see his cock, and he was proud of his cock, proud of not being cut like so many guys at school had been. Even so, his cock hadn’t looked half as big as Ben’s had under the table the other day. That was one mean fucker.
He laid on the grass for a while with his shirt off, afraid to strip down to his thong. Then he simply did it. It was white, and just this morning, after Ben’s visit, he’d shaved his pubes off. Otherwise you would have been able to see them.
Ben ought to get a kick out of that — if he liked that sort of thing. But then, who liked pubes. Nobody. He had learnt when he was with Tina to shave them.
He stepped into the stream cautiously. Yesterday, when he’d come, he’d all but looked at Ben. He had to avoid doing that again.
He duck-dived in the thong, and then paraded around in it a little, stepping out of the stream and into the forest. Then he took it off. There wasn’t any point to it, really, and the whole point of seeing a guy, if someone wanted to see him, was so he could look at his cock.
James swam for fifteen minutes or so. Then he jacked off. The piece of obsidian was where he’d left it, but he studiously avoided using it, and then, as he came, he did look up at the tree. He hadn’t seen it jounce once, and it was quite obvious now that Ben wasn’t in it. He could see that branch and the foliage — everything.
He put his thong back on and decided to climb it — just to see what it was like for Ben. The bough was thick, and it hung right out over the stream. He didn’t feel really confident about things like this. He was afraid of heights, but there was water beneath him. Once he was in Ben’s position, he realized how comfortable he was. All he needed to do was hook each leg over the bough and he could stay there for hours. Even so, he climbed down again pretty quickly. If Ben came along and saw him … well, that would ruin everything.
[] [] []
Around two or three, James trained again. He didn’t have a lot of energy after this morning, but he was bored. He was looking forward to going down to Ben’s house and cutting his hair. He figured he could make him look pretty good.
He showered, and then searched through a box for his hair cutting kit. He’d had it since he’d been at school — scissors, a comb, a brush, and a pair of electric clippers.
Ben came by at four with a grin on his face and James said he was ready. He gathered the hair clipping kit and followed Ben out the back door. They were walking, apparently, and James wondered where the truck was.
“Is it far?”
“A mile or so.”
There was a track, cut into the earth a little way from James’s place. It had obviously been well worn. It led down the hill and into woodland. This was a little frightening, the sky darkening ominously. They walked through it for ten minutes or so. Then they emerged into a clear green space and James could see a house in the distance. It was a little like his, but the veranda was open and continued all around the house.
“I don’t have as much room as you do,” Ben said as he was opening the door. It wasn’t locked. “It’s only four rooms, and a kitchen.”
The kitchen, James saw, was the only part of the veranda that had been enclosed. He spent a bit of time walking around outside, pacing the veranda and looking up at the mountain. Ben had a better view of it than he did. And he liked the way the veranda was open.
Then Ben said, “Come in.”
James walked into the house.
It was a mess, and it smelled. There was a pile of dishes in the sink, glasses and books and bills and clothes strewn all over the place.
“You don’t believe in cleaning?” he said.
“Hate it. My mom comes down from time to time.”
James nodded, staring around. There was dust over everything.
“You want a beer?” Ben said.
“Sure. Yeah. Yes.” It was more than a year since he’d had a beer.
Ben appeared with a couple of Buds and cracked the cans open. No glasses, and James did like to drink his beer in a glass.
“Is there a glass?” he said.
“If you want to wash one up.”
“I’ll do all of it,” James said, if you want.
“All of it?”
“The washing up.”
“Oh — right. You don’t have to do that.”
“You need someone to take care of you.”
Ben looked at him oddly and his eyes appeared to swim. He reached out a hand and placed it on James’s shoulder. James did his best not to flinch, but just couldn’t manage it. “One day you’re going to let me touch you.”
“Am I?”
“You bet.”
James started on the washing up and then swept and dusted and tidied. By the time he’d finished it was twilight, and the lights had to come on. It changed everything. The place actually looked clean.
Ben had ineffectually fussed around while he was working, but James doubted if he’d achieved anything.
He swilled his beer back, thankful for it now.
“You want another?”
“I won’t say no.”
Ben opened the fridge and pulled a couple more Buds o
ut. It looked like he had a sixth month supply, but not much food.
“What are we eating?” he said.
“Eating?”
“You are going to offer me food?”
Ben shrugged.
“Hell.”
“I’ve got some frozen stuff.”
“Why don’t I do your hair and then I’ll make something.”
“You’re really going to do my hair?”
James waggled the hair cutting kit. “How about you sit in the kitchen?”
A few minutes later, Ben had his shirt off. He wasn’t exactly built, but he had good muscle tone. Once or twice, James pressed his groin against Ben’s back as he worked. Then he began to bar up, and he stopped it. He cut Ben’s hair short and then swept up the mess before he let him look in the mirror.
“Hell,” Ben said, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. “I look like a different person.”
James had cut it so short it was almost a buzz cut, but he’d feathered the edges. It looked amazing he thought, and he couldn’t stop staring at Ben. Then he set about making them something to eat. There was nothing but frozen food, but there was some steak and some vegetables. Both would be virtually inedible, he knew, but he did his best, seasoning everything the way Tina had taught him.
It wasn’t so bad, and at the end of it, Ben said, “That was fantastic. I usually eat a Lean Cuisine.”
James made a face, and Ben laughed.
[] [] []
“So, you want to sleep here?” Ben said.
James had had a third beer and he felt tired. “Here?” he said. “But I have to go home.”
“It’s a long way to walk in the dark.”
James hadn’t considered this, but then, wasn’t the truck in the driveway?
“You could drive me.”
“Problem with the truck.”
“Oh — right.”
